


Mountains

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Chronic Illness, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 19:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18947455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage





	Mountains

“You look tired,” Sam commented quietly, his hand covering yours across the table. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?”

Lifting your weary gaze, you smiled, tugging your hand from underneath his and patting it gently. “I’m okay,” you replied, letting him take hold of your fingers, his concerned eyes searching yours. “Honestly, Sam, I’m… I’m good. It’s a good day.”

He smiled back but the worry didn’t leave his face. “You’re sure?”

“Quit mother-henning me,” you scolded, playfully. “I’m gonna make some coffee, you want some?”

“Sure.” Sam pulled you toward him as you got up, kissing your hand. “I love you.” You replied with a kiss to his temple, taking a second to run your fingers through his soft hair before you pulled out of his hold and headed for the kitchen.

Dean was sat at the table with Jack, engaged in a heated game of Uno. Both of them looked up as you walked in. “Hey, kiddo,” Dean muttered, slapping a red five on the deck and Jack gave you a bright smile before scowling at his cards.

“Coffee?” you offered and the older man held up a hand to confirm his acceptance.

“No, thank you,” Jack chirped politely, throwing down a plus four that made Dean groan and reach for the unused deck. As he sorted through his new handful, you turned away to the coffee machine, yawning as you turned it on.

“Are you kidding me?” Dean snapped as Jack laughed hysterically. “I  _ just _ picked up four.”

You smiled at the hunter’s dismay as the younger male kept laughing. “Hey, I was thinking a movie night?” you suggested. “You know, seeing as things have been quiet.” The coffee machine whirred away and you looked back over your shoulder at Jack’s concerned face. “What?”

“Castiel said it’s important never to say ‘things are quiet’,” he replied, “because it just makes things try to kill you harder.”

Dean snorted, covering his mouth with the side of his hand. “That’s not always true.”

“He called it a jinx,” Jack stated, sitting up a little straighter. “He told about the one time Dean said it was quiet and suggested a night out and -”

“We don’t need to hear that story,” Dean interrupted quickly, throwing down his cards. “Movie night sounds great.” Jack frowned, looking over at you but only receiving a shrug in response. “What we thinking? Die Hard?”

“It’s not Christmas,” you pointed out, rubbing the heel of your hand into your left eye, shuddering. The tremor in your fingers started again and you could feel the weakness spreading from tip to toe. Leaning back against the counter, you closed your eyes, trying to stave off the dizziness that was throwing your center of gravity.

“I would like to watch  _ Star Wars _ ,” Jack suggested.

“You’ve watched it six times already,” Dean muttered.

“You said there was no such thing as watching too much  _ Star Wars _ .”

Their voices became dulled with tinnitus and you drifted out of the conversation as the coffee pot dinged loudly. Dean looked up, frowning when you didn’t move, standing with one hand against the side of your head and the other on the counter. 

“Y/N?”

Reality snapped back in like someone had yanked you through soup and you nodded, forcing your eyes open. “I’m okay.”

Dean was already on his feet, crossing the room toward you. “You’re not,” he murmured, cupping your cheek. “I’m gonna get Sam, okay?”

“No,” you hissed, grabbing his arm before he could move. “It was just a dizzy spell. It’s gone.” He didn’t look convinced, staring at you with his body half-turned away. It took effort to make yourself smile but you hoped it was enough for him not to mention this to Sam. Releasing his arm, you concentrated on standing straight. “See?”

The expression on his face was still skeptical. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you whispered, patting his shoulder. “Lemme finish this coffee and we can argue over movies some more.”

*****

“Dean said you had another funny turn.”

Sam’s comment forced your head up sharply from where you were sat cross-legged on the bed, your latest sappy romance novel in your hands. Folding the book up neatly with the bookmark holding the page, you placed it on the nightstand, watching him appreciatively as he shut the door, kicking his shoes off.

“Dean is being an overprotective big brother like always,” you retorted, leaning back and biting your bottom lip when Sam stripped his shirt off in one smooth motion. “It wasn’t a funny turn. I just got a little dizzy.”

He arched an eyebrow in your direction, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down, leaving him only in boxers and his socks. “You could just tell him, you know.”

You shook your head, pouting as he crawled onto the bed, capturing your lips in a kiss and pushing you backward. Careful not to crush you, Sam allowed you room to unfold your legs before covering your body with his. 

“Why not?”

“Because,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I don’t want him treating me like I’m fragile.”

A smile curved his lips. “You kinda are,” he pointed out. “The doctor said -”

Slamming your palms into his shoulders, you pushed him off. “I don’t care,” you spat, the mood turning foul and Sam scrambled away, looking at you in shock. Your outburst had surprised you just as much and you sighed, covering your face with your hands as you lay across the bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured softly, holding his arm out to you. Moving into his side, you wrapped an arm over his waist, burrowing your face into his side. His distinct scent filled your nose and you hummed, momentarily able to forget the ache in every part of your body. “I just worry about you. And if they knew what was going on…”

You closed your eyes. “ _ We _ don’t know what’s going on yet.”

His hand was warm as it covered your cheek, coaxing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “But we’re gonna find out.” Shifting, Sam moved until he could kiss you, taking hold of your hands. “I’m here. Every step of the way. Dean and Jack… they just want to help.”

“I know,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I’m just not sure I can take three of you watching my every move.”

Sam chuckled, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “How are you feeling right now?” he asked, his voice a low rumble and you giggled, squirming against him, lifting one leg to sling it over his hip. He was already hard in his boxers, grinding into the space between your thighs.

“Pretty good,” you whined, arching as Sam buried his mouth against the curve of your neck. “As long as you don’t stop.”

His touch was gentle but firm as he pushed you onto your back, journeying down your body until his nose was pressed into the fabric covering your sex. Sam inhaled deeply, making a show of it; you giggled, wiggling a little as he tugged your panties down.

Reaching down, your fingers were stopped short of grabbing at him and he fixed you with a sly grin. “You’re taking it easy. Which means you,” he pushed your hand back up above your head, “stay still.”

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you watched Sam remove your panties, tossing them onto the floor. His big hands spread your thighs open and you cooed quietly as his breath coasted over your bare pussy.

“Sam -”

“Sssh,” he muttered, flicking his tongue over your clit. “Just relax.”

Stretching your arms above your head, you spread your legs a little more, bending your knees as Sam settled onto his elbows between your legs. You hummed happily as he teased you with the pointed tip of his tongue, tracing your folds and sucking your clit between his lips.

The little bud swelled with his attention, increasing the steady throb in your belly and you felt your insides clench tightly in anticipation as Sam’s tongue touched your entrance. An urge to beg lingered on your lips, emerging as a light gasp when Sam finally pressed his mouth flush against you, his tongue opening you up.

Whispering his name again only made him growl against you, the vibrations forcing you to emit a little squeak of surprise. Sam’s tongue filled you, feeling impossibly long and when he pulled away, you only had a moment to process before he slid one thick finger inside you, crooking it upward so his fingertip grazed your most sensitive spot.

“Too much?” he asked, cheekily.

You groaned, dropping your head back onto the pillow. “Not enough.”

Sam chuckled, working his finger in and out of your slick channel as you ran your hands down your sides, locking your eyes with his. He added a second and you grunted, gasping as he started to fuck you with them.

“Wanna cum?”

“Want you to fuck me,” you mumbled impatiently, humming as his thumb stroked your clit. “Please, Sam…”

He grinned, withdrawing his fingers from your heat, sucking both of them between his lips. “You’re a little impatient.” 

You didn’t want to tell him that you were tired. That you wanted to spend hours just touching him, letting him touch you, but you knew that the energy required just didn’t exist within you. “I just want you,” you whispered, reaching for him as he removed his boxers and crawled up your body, “inside me.”

Sam groaned as his cock nudged your entrance, his mouth covering yours. You spread your legs to accommodate him, whimpering as he shifted his hips and the first inch sank inside you. “Impatient,” he repeated, smirking as he pressed forward, filling you to the brim.

Burying his face against your neck, Sam started to move slowly, hips rocking into yours with a motion that only allowed him to withdraw a little way but gave him a deeper angle of penetration. You bared your throat to him, hooking your legs around his waist, whining his name over and over.

“Fuck, Sam,” your fingers clawed at his shoulders, “please, fuck me.”

Sam growled against your throat, putting a little more force behind his thrusts. The slap of skin on skin surrounded you, mixing with your heavy breathing and Sam’s primal grunts. You kept whispering, kept begging -  _ ‘please, Sam, harder, please, fuck, so deep, please’ _ \- each little sound took him closer to the edge.

Your climax came swiftly, a wave of bliss that made your eyes shut, your toes curl and your thighs shudder. The grip of your legs around his waist faltered, allowing Sam to move a little harder, slamming you over the final edge.

“Gonna cum inside you,” he warned and you whimpered in response, clinging to his neck as he crashed his mouth into yours. Seconds later you felt it; wet warmth spreading through your belly, trickling out down the crack of your ass when Sam didn’t stop fucking into your sloppy cunt.

When he finally slowed, hips still shuddering with the last echoes of his climax, you cupped his face, kissing him hard. Sam responded eagerly, until the rapid descent of his erection required him to move. He climbed off of the bed, grabbing a towel and helping you clean up before dealing with his own mess.

You were exhausted. The disappointment of not being able to fuck for hours like you used to turned your orgasm and happy feelings sour. Sam didn’t notice as he pulled on his boxers, handing you your panties as he slid back into bed.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, “you know that?” His arm slipped underneath your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I love you, so much.”

Humming in reply, you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears at your own perceived failure. Sam seemed happy, seemed satisfied - but that little voice in your head told you that he wouldn’t remain that way.

How long before you were too tired to do anything to please him?

“Hey,” he murmured sleepily. “You okay?”

“Fine.” You snuggled into him, silencing the doubts in your head as much as you could. “Just tired.”

“G’night, Y/N.”

“G’night, Sam.”

*****

The pamphlet in your hand was only a few millimeters thick but it felt heavier than anything you’d ever held. A piece of paper dangled off of the corner, attach with stapler, the email addresses, website and phone numbers all a blur through the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t even know how long you’d been sat there since you called Sam. He hadn’t known about the appointment and you knew he’d be upset he hadn’t told you. It just felt like something you had to do alone.

Clouds cast a shadow over the spot you sat in, a little communal garden a few blocks from the hospital. When you’d walked out into the sunshine, you’d just kept going, a haze descending over you as you contemplated what the doctors had told you.

Would Sam even want to be with you now? Knowing you were slowly losing function? The doctor had said it could take years but the symptoms you had now would most likely get worse.

Squealing tires made you look up as the Impala pulled to a stop on the curb, Sam jumping out with concern on his handsome features. He spotted you immediately, jogging over to the bench you’d sat on, his eyes dropping to the pamphlet in your hands.

“Y/N?”

You burst into tears.

Sam slid onto the bench next to you, gathering you into his arms and pulling you close against his chest. The pamphlet dropped from your fingers as you clutched at him, thick sobs shuddering your entire frame, exacerbating the pain you were already feeling.

He didn’t say anything, running his fingers through your hair and peppering kisses against your temples, letting you cry into his jacket. You knew you were leaving a wet spot on the collar but you didn’t want to pull away, seeking the comfort he always offered.

The clouds dispersed and the sun came out again, warm on your shoulders as your crying jag eased off and you pulled back from Sam’s arms. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice ragged and broken with your tears.

Sam smiled gently, cupping your face. “It’s okay,” he assured you softly. “What happened?”

You sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve, suddenly conscious of how awful you must look. “I had an appointment with Doctor Thackery,” you avoided his eyes as you spoke, knowing he’d be disappointed that you’d lied to him, “and they had some of the results back…”

“You didn’t tell me,” he stated, trying to sound neutral but you could hear the edge of upset to his tone.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Your lame excuse made his mouth drop into a thin line and you swallowed, finally meeting his eyes. “She… she said it’s multiple sclerosis.” His expression turned to shock and you reached down with a grunt of discomfort, snatching the pamphlet from the grass and offering it to him. Sam accepted it silently, staring at the glossy blue front page.

You waited, unsure of his reaction, the dramatic portion of your brain expecting him to reject you, to decide he didn’t want to be with someone so broken. Taking a breath, Sam glanced up at you, his features softening as he took your hand.

“Let me take you home,” he murmured, squeezing your fingers lightly. Fresh tears stung your eyes and you nodded, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to stop from blubbering like a jilted prom date again.

The ride home was silent but Sam didn’t let go of your hand. When you approached the bunker driveway, he smiled at you, relinquishing his hold to guide the Impala into the garage, enabling him to smuggle you to your room without any interruptions.

Once the door was closed, you let the tension fall from your shoulders, sitting on the edge of the bed with your hands clasped in your lap.

“Have you read it yet?” Sam asked, placing the pamphlet on the nightstand. You shook your head, looking up at him with swollen, watery eyes. “Then we’ll read it together. Later.” He kicked off his shoes, wordlessly crouching down to remove yours, before patting your thigh. “Lay down.”

Obeying without question, you scuttled back onto the bed, letting Sam tug the covers from underneath you. As soon as you laid flat, he was at your side, pulling you into his protective embrace.

“You shouldn’t have gone on your own,” he chided quietly, kissing your temple, “silly girl.”

You managed a smile, laying your palm against his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat underneath the skin and shirt. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never bothering me,” Sam scolded, a little firmer this time. “Don’t ever think you’re a bother to me, Y/N.” His lips pressed into the top of your head, a harsh kiss that was laden with the desperation you both felt but couldn’t express. “I love you. And we’re gonna get through this together.”

“What if I can’t hunt anymore?” you whispered, desolation filling your chest like water. “What use am I? I’ll be stuck here -”

“We don’t need to talk about that right now.” Sam turned onto his side, cupping your cheek to make you look up at him. You sniffed loudly, unsure if your nose was running or it was the tears tingling the back of your nose. “Hearing something like this takes the wind out of you,” he soothed, pressing his forehead against yours. “You look tired.”

“I’m always tired.”

He smiled a little, kissing the tip of your nose. “You need to process. Best way to do that, is with a nap.”

“You’ll stay?”

“Never going anywhere,” he promised, stroking his thumb over your cheek, staring into your eyes for a moment before he tucked you back into his chest. You let his warmth and his scent surround you, closing your eyes.

It was easy to succumb to exhaustion when it was all you could feel.

*****

Dean’s eyes moved between you and his brother, unsure what to say in response to your announcement. Beside him, Jack frowned, leaning his forearms on the library table. “Is this why you kept falling over?”

The blunt question made you smile. “Pretty much. It’s a condition that impairs your central nervous system.” You looked up at Sam for clarification and he nodded, having done all the research he could since your diagnosis. “So I’m a little wobbly.”

“There’s no cure?” Dean asked quietly, watching you with worry knitting his eyebrows together. You shook your head sadly. 

“It isn’t fatal,” Sam insisted, taking your hand, “and there are lots of experimental treatments. Plus, you know, we’ve got the supernatural on our side.”

“Can’t Cas do something?” Dean’s voice was a little high-pitched. “Or Jack?”

“We don’t think so,” you whispered, sinking down into your seat a little. “I mean, I’m happy to try -”

Jack was already on his feet, moving behind you with his fingers on your temples. You blinked, eyes wide as he started to concentrate, the spots under his fingertips heating up with his power. The kid scowled, shook his head and withdrew, pouting in disappointment. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I don’t think I can fix it.”

The tiny spark of hope you’d had diminished and you sighed, offering him a grateful smile. “Thank you for trying. This is… just something I’m gonna have to live with.”

“You still gonna hunt?” Dean’s eyes bore into you and you looked at Sam for support. The younger Winchester shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

“She’s gonna do what she can,” Sam said, locking his gaze with his brother’s. “But actively chasing down werewolves and skinwalkers might be a thing of the past.”

“Until they find a cure,” Jack added, retaking his seat and staring at you intently. His faith was endearing, however misplaced. “And we can do more chores around the bunker.” He glanced at Dean, who looked genuinely horrified at the idea.

Sam chuckled, patting your thigh. “We’re all gonna help out. Y/N’s still Y/N, she’s just a little -”

“Exhausted?” you suggested, raising one eyebrow. “Fragile?” There was an edge of bitterness to your tone and Sam frowned.

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re not fragile. This doesn’t change who you are.” You huffed through your nose, well aware you were wallowing in your own self-pity, much like you had since you’d received the news. “It’s just an adjustment. And we’ll keep looking for something to help.”

Swallowing down your sour feelings, you forced a smile onto your face. “I know. It’s just… frustrating.”

“Hey,” Dean interrupted, scratching a hand over the back of his head, “way I see it, you got an excuse to nap whenever you want, right?”

You giggled, shrugging a little. “I guess so.”

“See?” Sam lifted your hand, kissing your knuckles as he smiled at you, all the love and adoration in his eyes making you teary-eyed all over again. “Everything’s gonna be fine. You got us.”


End file.
